Elsinore
by HollyIvy Crown
Summary: Horatio gives Julia, a lady-in-waiting at Elsinore, a diary for her birthday. Follow the events of Shakespeare's Hamlet through Julia's eyes as she records her observations of volatile Hamlet, lovesick Ophelia, steady Horatio and other courtiers.
1. Chapter 1

_I wrote this in 2006, inspired by Hamlet. Enjoy._

Chapter 1: An Introduction

I'm not really sure what to write to be honest. I've been given this book by my good friend Horatio for my birthday, which was about a fortnight ago. I felt guilty about it for I've worn the dress Ophelia gave me thrice, Rose has given me a bracelet which I have not taken off since putting on, and the Queen gave me a brooch that I love dearly. I received a peacock feather quill from Laertes (Ophelia's brother) but nothing from Hamlet. I think it's because of his uncle's marriage to his mother that he's forgotten and he is now dull and moody. This time a year ago he was cheerful and lively, even for a scholar. Horatio is a scholar too and studies philosophy, which is probably why this book is a rather dull colour and has no pattern on it. Well, you cannot judge a book by its cover and I've decided to use it for writing in daily. Or as much as I can.

Sorry, I haven't introduced myself. I'm Julia and I live here in the castle of Elsinore, in Denmark. I'm a lady-in-waiting to Queen Gertrude with my second cousin Rose, who is a year older than me. We are both friends with Ophelia, who is the daughter of Lord Polonius, the man in charge of running the household. She has a brother called Laertes, who is very handsome and courteous. I have an inkling that Rose is secretly enamoured with him, for I caught her writing his name over and over on a sheet of spare parchment… with hearts. I don't think Laertes sees how much attention he is getting from her and is not very much interested in her. He's more into jousting, parrying, adventures and visiting new places… and spending money like water (so I've heard).

It is obvious, however, that Hamlet adores Ophelia. He's sent her countless tokens of his affection and she returns them with smiles and kindness. She's the sweetest girl you will ever meet. She never thinks ill of anyone, not even her own father, the tiresome, vexing and burbling Polonius.

I'm an orphan: Rose's aunt the Lady Helga is my guardian and she's one of the Queen's closest companions. She gave me a belt for my birthday and a shawl, for it is very cold here near the sea. It's so windy, especially up on top of the battlements.

Horatio said that last night he saw the phantom of the late King Hamlet, who died two months ago. He made me swear not to tell anyone and he's going to show and tell Hamlet of what he has seen. The men on guard also saw it and Horatio told me that they are very shaken by what has happened.

I'm secretly pleased that Horatio told me first and not Hamlet. This means I'm probably a good friend of his and not just another lady of the court he chooses to be courteous with. I know him well, for he has spent many holidays here at the castle. For the rest of the year he is at school with Hamlet in Wittenburg. I'm not sure if Hamlet plans to return or not but Horatio definitely wants to.

I wish Horatio would stay here with me. I like him and enjoy his company. There is something pleasing about the way he speaks. Not with aloofness like Hamlet but with friendliness and he treats me like another scholar with equality and interest.

I sometimes wish that I could further my education but everyone treats women as if they're idiots – it makes me mad. I have tried to take an interest in mathematics and physic, but I prefer reading and writing and history and stories. Lady Helga says it is not good for a woman to become too interested in these matters and I should be more busy attending the Queen. But her Majesty is far more interested in spending all her time with King Claudius. They are besotted with each other and, in my opinion, make quite an exhibition of themselves. Well, hey ho! They are married of course, and they love each other deeply and they seem happy, even though Hamlet is unhappy.

I have to go for supper now, I hear the bell.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2: Upon the battlements

After supper I visited Ophelia in her room and Rose was there also. Both were melancholy and I knew why. Laertes left for France only a few hours ago. As Ophelia is his sister, she worries greatly about him and Rose mourns for her love for him which is unreturned. She is so unhappy about it, it must be more than a whim, for she started to cry and pulled from her gown a handkerchief to dab her face.

Ophelia wept too, but more so and started sobbing. I asked her what's the matter.

'Hamlet,' she chokes. 'I told my brother of the love letters Hamlet has sent me and he warned me how dangerous a young man's love can be. He brought it up indirectly in front of my father and he's told me I should have nothing more to do with Hamlet and must never speak to him again.'

I left them both to comfort each other and in the hallway caught sight of Hamlet and Horatio earnestly talking to each other. They made their way up the stairs and I followed silently behind them. In their conversation, I heard they were going up to the battlements to see the ghost. I made up my mind quickly to go up too.

After I made my way past many flights of steps, the icy cold breeze hit me and I crouched, shivering, behind a cannon in the corner, where I looked upon the place where Hamlet and Horatio stood. For hours it seemed we waited, until a translucent figure, wearing a helmet and armour, appeared. I covered my mouth as I gasped, and the men staggered backwards. My words cannot describe how gaunt, how sinister, and how frightening King Hamlet was. The ghost beckoned to the prince, though it did not speak. The sentinel and Horatio held Hamlet back, but Hamlet followed the phantom cautiously up the top of the highest tower. The sentinel stepped apart from Horatio and my friend strolled over, very near to my hiding place.

'Julia?' Horatio whispered into the darkness. I poked my head out from behind the cannon and he lifted me to my feet.

'You're freezing!' he exclaimed and he took his cloak off and threw it over me.

'Thank you,' I replied and a delicious warm feeling flooded me.

'Why were you up here?' he asked, his teeth chattering.

'I wanted to see what the ghost was like.' I look away from him. 'I wish I hadn't now,' I said a little sheepishly. 'I just wanted to see for myself if ghosts do exist, for I remember once you told me you didn't believe in these type of things.'

Horatio shrugged and shivered. I felt his face between my hands.

'You're cold too,' I whispered. We moved closer together and I wrapped my arms around his neck. We stood in this manner for a long time.

'I think you'd better go now,' he murmured into my ear. I pulled apart from him, and handed him his cloak, but he refused to take it.

'You need it, Julia.'

I grinned foolishly, turned around and climbed down the steps.

I arrived in my chamber where there was a roaring fire and the room was filled with an orange glow. The bed looked warm and inviting, and it is where I have written these pages. I think I will now snuff out the candle and go to sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3: The Mad Prince

I was woken up a few hours later by a knock on the door, and Rose came bustling in. Her eyes were quite red but she looked livelier than yesterday. I dozed back off to sleep and she playfully hit me with a pillow.

'Wake up, slugabed!' she teased me playfully. 'Didn't you sleep last night?'

She then caught sight of Horatio's cloak draped over my chair. She recognised it at once.

'Why have you got Horatio's cloak?' she asked.

I told her the whole story but made her promise not to tell anyone. She smiled when I told her about how Horatio and I huddled together for warmth.

'That's so romantic,' she signed. I blushed (I don't know why!) and busied myself with getting dressed so she would not see I was smiling widely.

At breakfast, I saw two identical young men who were unfamiliar to me. This sight quite unnerved me, as I have never seen twins before. They were eating breakfast and talking animatedly to each other.

I sat down next to Hamlet, who was picking his nails.

'Beautiful day!' he remarked. I glanced out of the window and saw it was raining.

'Erm, yes your highness. It would be beautiful apart from the rain,' I replied, unsure why the prince said such a curious thing.

'Toast?' I offered.

'A toast? A toast to whom? The new king and the former king's widow?' he barked abruptly.

'No, my lord. To eat, not drink.'

Hamlet took a slice of toast but did not eat it. He stared at the ceiling expectantly, as if something was going to fall from the sky.

'My lord, do you feel well?' I asked.

'Well, well, well. Yes, Julia, I am well. And how do you fare?'

'Well too, my lord. Pray, who are those two fellows over there?'

Hamlet looked over and his eyes widened.

Why, they're my classmates, Rosencrantz and Guildenstern.'

'From Wittenberg?'

'Yea.' Hamlet rose from the table and hurried off to speak to them, while I gazed after him, astounded. He was acting very oddly… was this because of the ghost? The thought of that dead king sent shivers down my spine, and all at once I realised the prince was troubled.

Even when he was conversing with his two friends, though I could not hear their conversation, Hamlet seemed withdrawn one moment, would make wild gestures the next and then would stare into space. This frightened me, for Hamlet is the most reasonable and sensible man I know. Something more must have happened when Hamlet followed the ghost on the battlements.

While I dwelt on this, I ate my porridge. I was aware of someone sitting down next to me, and I turned my head to see it was Horatio.

'Good morrow, Julia,' he smiled, while he ladled himself some porridge.

'Horatio, do you know Rosencrantz and Guild… oh I can't remember the rest of his name.'

'Rosencrantz and Guildenstern, do you mean?'

I nodded.

'Yes I know them. Not very well. I think there's another reason why they're here, apart from seeing Hamlet. Something strange is at work here.'

He looked at me with his hazel eyes. 'Have you noticed how strangely his highness is acting today?'

'Aye, Horatio. I have. It troubles me so.'

There was a pause.

'You don't think it was about that phantom, do you?'

Horatio turned his head towards me sharply. 'You haven't told anyone, have you?'

'I'm sorry, Horatio, but I told Rose. We tell each other almost everything.' I dared not look at him. 'I'm really sorry.'

Horatio shrugged and carried on eating his porridge. I got up and left the hall. Queen Gertrude greeted me as I stepped out into the entrance hall.

'Julia? Are you well?'

'Very well, your majesty,' I curtsied.

'Have you seen Hamlet?

'Aye, my lady. In the dining hall, talking with Rosencrantz and Guildenstern.'

She smiled graciously at me, 'I can never tell them apart, can you?'

I grinned. 'No, your majesty.'

Then I bumped into Osric the flamboyant lord who really gets on my nerves.

'Sorry, my lady,' he purred in his oily fashion, making to kiss my hand. I skipped past him and into the garden, where I sat for an hour or so. I then started picking flowers to brighten up my chamber.

My maid Freya was making up the bed when I opened the heavy door.

'How was breakfast, my lady?'

'Very good, Freya.'

'Shall I get a vase for those, my lady?'

'Yes please.'

The door burst open and Rose rushed in.

'Julia! Something's happened to Ophelia.'

We ran to her chamber and our friend shook, her face as white as the sheets on her bed.

'Hamlet is insane,' she shuddered.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4: The Players

'Why? How is Prince Hamlet insane?' asked Rose, looking extremely concerned.

'He was acting strangely at breakfast,' I said. 'He was moody one minute, and bright and cheerful the next. Even Horatio didn't know what was wrong.'

'You don't think it's about – ' Rose started, but I silenced her at once with a look. I promised Horatio I would not tell anyone else about that event. Fortunately, Ophelia did not notice for she was still crying.

'What did he do to you, friend?' I asked. Ophelia gulped and started her story.

'I was sewing in here when Hamlet burst in, looking as white as his shirt and wild. He grabbed me by the arm and pulled me up from my stool. He said nothing but stared at my face for a long time, examining each part of it, as if he was going to draw a picture of it. His gaze frightened me, for I have never stared so long into someone's eyes like that. Then he let go of me, and backed out of the room, his eyes never leaving my face.'

That was probably the most I ever heard her say before without stopping. She looked down at her shaking hands.

'I know it does not sound scary, but I am so ashamed, as if I've done something to provoke this wild behaviour. Maybe ignoring the prince was the wrong thing to do.'

Ophelia breathed heavily and flopped backwards onto the bed.

'I'm going to tell Father.'

'No, don't!' I warned her at once. 'He'll make a huge fuss about it, like he always does.'

'But 'tis strange, Julia, that Prince Hamlet did that,' Rose pondered. 'I would tell your father, Ophelia. He may find out what the matter is with him.'

Ophelia nodded, sat up and glided out of the room.

Rose turned to me, but before she could say anything, there was a fanfare. We flung open the large window and peered out.

The players were coming! I love watching them act and they come each year to perform at Elsinore. Surely this will raise Hamlet's mood and he'll become distracted in their performances, instead of dwelling on other thoughts.

I saw Horatio and Hamlet greeting them earnestly.

Lady Helga then came bustling in, almost dragging me away from the sight so I could help her mend one of the many tapestries hanging on the grey castle walls.

It was dull and tedious work, so I shall not go into detail about it. My thoughts were only on the players and Hamlet and Ophelia… and Horatio.

Lady Helga told me to stop day dreaming when I pricked my finger twice on the needle because I was staring out of the window. I longed to be set free from the stuffiness of the room and to escape to the battlements or garden – somewhere I don't have to do any needlecraft.

We stopped before supper and I enjoyed being in the presence of other people again. I was ravenously hungry too.

I was so tired, but I caught a glance of the players talking to Hamlet. I did not really hear what he wanted them to perform, but I caught snatches of words. I can't remember them now. But I'm so tired now. And confused. Why is Hamlet behaving like this? Is it to do with the ghost I saw? What will Polonius say when Ophelia tells him what happened? I hope he won't exaggerate the whole thing. I don't want Hamlet to be in danger of ending up in a lunatic asylum.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5: 'Get thee to a nunnery'

I wish I hadn't seen what I saw this morning. It makes my heart ache for Ophelia.

After breakfast, I was walking back up the stairs to my chamber when I heard voices, which sounded like Hamlet and Ophelia.

'My lord – '

'I loved you once,' came the abrupt, sharp voice of the prince.

Ophelia sounded close to tears. 'Indeed, my lord, you made me believe so,' she faltered.

'You should not have believed me. I loved you not.'

'I was the more deceived,' came Ophelia's faint voice.

Hamlet's retort made me jump and hide behind the nearest tapestry.

'Get thee to a nunnery!' he shouted, and I heard Ophelia's sobs begin to rise.

'Where's your father?!'

'A-at h-home, m'lord,' she croaked. It was obvious she was lying, for Polonius's home is wherever he can overhear people's private conversations.

Peeping through a hole in the tapestry, I saw a curtained alcove near where Ophelia was crouching in despair. I had a strong feeling that Ophelia's father was indeed overhearing this conversation. It had been a mistake to tell him about the incident yesterday.

Now Hamlet was pacing the room, hurling abuse at my poor friend.

He then fled, and I hid in the shadows so he would not see me. But I caught a glimpse of his face, and saw that there were tears in his eyes.

Polonius and King Claudius emerged from behind the curtained alcove. They ignored the sobs of Ophelia, and concluded that it was not love that made the Prince mad but something else.

Polonius rebuked his daughter harshly, oblivious to the fact that all her hopes and dreams of being Hamlet's bride have been dashed on a cold hard floor, all shattered into tiny pieces. These pieces may take a long time to fall back into place.

The two men bustled out, and making sure they were well out of earshot, I ran to her. She clung to me, crying more than anyone I've ever seen before. I pulled her to her feet, and led her back to her chamber. I filled up her silver basin with water, and dabbed her face gently, for it was extremely red. She said nothing audible, apart from 'Hamlet', over and over again.

She then agreed to lie down on her bed and rest. Soon she fell asleep, and I left the room quietly, closing the door behind me.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6: The Mousetrap

Horatio found me later that day, making daisy chains by the lake. He sat down next to me and looked where I was looking – at the grey sky and the pale clouds riding across it, as if they were waves rolling in from the sea when they reach the shore.

I sniffed. He looked at me, his eyes warm and honest.

'What's happened, Julia?' he asked, as my tears fell like raindrops. I told him everything that had happened yesterday afternoon and this morning. He did not ask questions or interrupt, but listened to everything I said. After I finished there was a silence, then he spoke.

'The reason why Hamlet is acting so strangely is because of the ghost of his father. It told him he had been murdered by King Claudius, and King Claudius had seduced Queen Gertrude as well.'

Horatio pulled his knees up to his chin, then relaxed a little, and his legs slid across the grass.

'Hamlet hates the atmosphere at court, for he knows that Rosencrantz and Guildenstern have been paid by the king to spy on him.'

I was astonished… and confused. 'But why does Hamlet reject Ophelia? She loves him, and I thought he loves her?'

'Aye, he does in his heart, but I know he is confused – he thinks more about death and not of life, and dwells on these things more than sweet Ophelia. He knows she is dutiful to her father, and he only spoke harshly to her because he knows Polonius, the old fool, and his uncle were listening.'

'What you were saying about King Hamlet being murdered - how can you be sure of this? The ghost might have been an evil devil in disguise.'

Horatio leant back and sighed.

'Well tonight the players will perform a play based on what the ghost said happened, and Hamlet and I will watch the king's reaction.'

I nodded. It seemed like a reasonably good plan to me.

I caught sight of Horatio looking at me, and I smiled – though I don't know why, for I had just heard something extremely serious.

'Why do you tell me all of this, Horatio?' I murmured. 'Why do you trust me?'

He took my hand and linked his fingers with mine. His skin was smooth and tanned, and the hairs on my arm quickly stood up, but in a nice sort of way.

'Because-' he started, but did not finish. The bell was clanging for supper, and I stood up, brushing grass off my skirt. As we walked back to the castle, I wondered what Horatio was going to say. I secretly hoped he was about to say 'because I-I love you', or 'for you're the only maiden whom I've ever been able to talk to about anything before.' But I doubt he would have actually said that.

After supper, there was a fanfare, and we were called into the Great Hall, where the players were about to perform.

Hamlet refused to sit by his mother, but sat with Ophelia.

The things I overheard him say to her made her blush and look extremely uncomfortable. If I were in her shoes, I would have slapped him – prince or not!

Then the play started, or at least the prologue. It looked like the tale of a royal poisoning. There was scattered applause. King Claudius's face was unmoved by the performance so far. I saw both Hamlet and Horatio staring at him.

Then the play really began. After the Queen left the Player King, the actor lay down to sleep. Then the murderer tiptoed in. He showed the audience a flask, smiled in a sinister fashion and then poured liquid into the Player King's ear. The real king looked enraged.

Hamlet could not contain himself: 'A poisons him in the garden for his estate!' he cried. The king stood up, his face ashen and eyes dangerously red.

'Give me some light!' he bellowed. 'AWAY!'

Everyone hurried after him, including Queen Gertrude. She gave Hamlet a despairing look and followed her new husband. I went to Rose and we both left the Hall together.

So the ghost was right after all – King Claudius did murder the late King Hamlet, to usurp his throne and steal his wife. I won't be able to sleep tonight. My mind is full of questions about Ophelia, King Claudius and Queen Gertrude – about everything at Elsinore, and Horatio. I keep on thinking about Horatio.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7: Hamlet does a rash thing

Actually, I slept extremely well, and came down for breakfast later than usual. I had almost forgotten about yesterday evening.

I went over to sit with Horatio and Rose.

'Good morrow!' I greeted them, pouring myself some milk. I caught sight of their faces. They looked as if someone had died, but how was I to know what had happened? Anyway, here's what happened…

'What's the matter?' I asked, completely nonplussed, taking a gulp of milk.

'Polonius is dead,' Rose said gloomily.

I choked and Rose thumped me on the back.

'You're jesting with me, to be sure,' I spluttered, unable to believe it.

Then I looked around at the dozen other people breaking their fast in the hall. They looked downcast too. I turned to face Rose and Horatio.

'How did he die? He was well enough last night.'

'He was murdered.'

'Murdered? By whom?' I gasped.

'Hamlet,' Horatio and Rose replied in unison. My heart started beating fast and I felt a little weak.

'What? No!'

'Yes,' Rose said grimly, whilst Horatio looked solemn.

'Why?' I gaped at them.

'He was having an argument with his mother after the performance last night. Polonius was hiding behind the curtains. Hamlet thought it was Claudius… so he…' Horatio did not need to tell me any more.

'Does Ophelia know?'

Horatio nodded.

'Has Laertes been told?'

Rose blushed. Horatio saw but did not comment on her reaction.

'Well, they've sent a messenger but goodness knows how long it's going to take to find him!' Horatio sighed.

'And what about Hamlet?' I asked, lost in Horatio's downcast eyes. 'He hasn't been executed has he?'

Horatio vigorously shook his head. 'No, he's been sent to England with Rosencrantz and Guildenstern. But there he imminently awaits his execution.'

Then I realised that Rose had slipped away, and Horatio took my hands in his.

'Julia, I've decided to go back to Wittenberg.'

'But why?'

'This court reminds me of Hamlet. I wish I'd never told him about the ghost – if it weren't for me, he wouldn't be on the way to England. It's all my fault.'

'No, it's not,' I tried to reassure him. 'Didn't you once say that everything that happens, happens because of a purpose?'

He looked at me, his eyes shining.

'And Hamlet probably knows why they're taking him to England. He might try and escape.'

Horatio smiled a weak smile. 'Yes, and swim across the rough seas back to Denmark? Even if he did survive, I still can't stay here.'

'But you're one of the only people here I can confide in,' I gabbled, my heart pounding. 'These discussions we've had together, don't they mean anything to you? You're my friend, Horatio… and I'll miss you terribly if you go away!'

Horatio's eyes softened at the sight of my face – I was trying so hard to stop it from crumpling.

'I'll think about it all of today, and I'll let you know this evening.'

He squeezed my hand, smiled sadly at me and departed.

It was only then I realised that everyone else had also left the hall, leaving me all alone.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8: 'He is dead and gone, lady.'

Lady Helga told me the Queen wanted me to keep her company as she sewed in the Great Hall. Though I think she is beautiful, Gertrude looked tearstained and tired. It was obvious why – she had recently witnessed a murder and her son had been sent to England (though I don't think she knows that Hamlet awaits his death there). Her hands shook as she embroidered, and she seemed distant.

'How is Ophelia?' I asked after several minutes passed in silence. Before her majesty could answer, one of the doors flew upon.

In drifted Ophelia, clutching a lute in her hand… but something was wrong. Her dress had not been buttoned the right way, her hair looked unkempt and her wide eyes were unfocused and roving around the hall.

I stood up from my chair and placed my embroidery back in the basket beside me.

'Ophelia, I haven't seen you for ages. Are you alright? How are you coping?'

Questions came rushing out of my mouth like water. But Ophelia answered none of them. She started strumming her lute and sang softly, but her words made no sense and she kept no rhythm. She meandered over to the far side of the hall and opened one of the windows.

'What's the matter with her?' I asked the queen in a whisper, my heart sinking as I pre-empted her answer.

'She's mad for the loss of her father, and because my son, whom she loves, killed him,' murmured Gertrude.

'O poor Ophelia,' I thought, hopelessly. 'Why did this happen to you, the loveliest person in the world?'

King Claudius and Horatio then entered the hall. Ophelia wandered back over to us. When the men caught sight of Ophelia, they looked very uncomfortable. When she uttered a series of 'goodbyes' and glided out of the room, Horatio walked over to me and then stood by my side. We couldn't say anything. We were silent until there was a sudden commotion.

Laertes, evidently back from his travels, burst into the hall, his face full of anger, and he shouted at King Claudius, 'Give me my father!'

Thank goodness the king managed to calm him down. And Laertes managed to regain his composure until Ophelia re-entered the hall with a huge bunch of flowers in her hands.

She gave different flowers to each of us and, bless her, she knew the names and meanings of all of them. Personally I always forget what flowers symbolise, though Lady Helga has reminded me of them many a time.

When she left, Laertes gaped at their majesties and Queen Gertrude asked Horatio and me to keep an eye on her.

But when I tried to find her, she had locked herself in her chamber, and I heard her sobbing.

It is nearly a week now since I wrote those words. I have not brought myself to write in this diary since.

After my last entry, I felt lonely and depressed. I hardly saw Rose, but often glimpsed Ophelia, drifting around like a ghost, her thin voice piercing the silence of Elsinore with her mournful singing.

Since Hamlet departed for England, everyone is downcast. Some people are leaving court for a while, to go back to their forts in the north of the country.

However, to my relief and delight, Horatio has decided to stay.

Try as I might, I could not fully obey my lady's instructions. I hated seeing Ophelia, pale and woebegone, drifting from corridor to corridor, unaware of anything but her grief.

One morning, when the sun was shining and the sky for once was blue, Lady Helga told me to go and have some fresh air. I obeyed her, and as soon as I was out of anyone's sight, I ran down a grassy mound (which is just outside the castle) and allowed myself to collapse at the bottom.

It was then I began to cry. I cried until I knew that I couldn't bring forth any more tears. I felt someone touch my shoulder. With a sniff, I turned around to see who it was. It was Horatio. He gave me his handkerchief and put his arm around my shoulders. I saw tears in his eyes too. I wiped his face with my shaking fingers, and we clung together, our arms around each other.

We were so immersed in our grief that we did not think anything of these sounds: a splash of water, a scream, some more splashing, then silence. I pulled myself apart from Horatio and stared in the direction of the lake. There was something white floating in the water. I broke into a run to the bank, Horatio behind me.

I was vaguely aware of someone screaming and I closed my eyes to shut out the sight before me. Ophelia's body lay in the depths. She had drowned.

Then I realised that I was the one who was screaming, and Horatio was stroking my shoulders, telling me to hush. Then I knew no more.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9: The Son Returns

On the day of Ophelia's funeral, I dressed myself in black and wore a veil over my face. It was the first time I'd ever worn one, and I liked it. It made me feel detached from the world – where death is inevitable.

'I'll wake up. This is all a nightmare,' I tried to tell myself over and over again. But the reality had sunk in. One of my only friends in the world was gone. I would never again hear her tinkling voice, or see her kind eyes blinking back at me. The innocence in my life went when Ophelia drowned. I should have watched her more carefully… but what good does it do saying that now? The world is a dark place, diary. If only you had eyes and could see for yourself. Then I wouldn't have to describe it to you.

I met Horatio on the way down to breakfast, who was in high spirits. He told me that Hamlet was coming back – he'd been captured by pirates on the way back to England and they took him back to Denmark. I was astounded – Hamlet was alive! How fortuitous! I felt myself smiling for the first time in ages.

Horatio said that he had told Hamlet that he would meet him at the port that morning.

'So you're not coming to Ophelia's funeral?' I asked, crestfallen.

'We'll arrive back just as it's ending,' said Horatio solemnly.

'Does Hamlet not know about the funeral?'

'I haven't told him,' said Horatio. 'I plan to tell him when I meet him. I need to leave now, I'm afraid.'

Horatio took my hand and kissed it. 'Why are you wearing that veil?'

'I like it.'

'It doesn't suit you. I prefer seeing your face.'

I let him pull back the veil from my face.

'I got you something too,' Horatio added. He then handed me a single red rose.

'You should wear this in your hair,' he suggested. 'Instead of this dark veil.'

'It's a funeral,' I reminded him.

'It's what Ophelia would have wanted,' he replied. And with that, he left.

I entered the Great Hall. The banners were covered in black fabric, people were crying and I sat down next to Rose, who was in deep discussion with Laertes. I was unaware of what they said and I stared gloomily at my food. Then we just waited for a long time – this time seemed endless and was mind-numbingly boring. Even though our best friend had just died, Rose started batting her eyelashes at Laertes. I was furious with her, but did not say anything to her. Laertes remained impassive. You know, now I come to think of it, I actually can't remember the last time I saw him smile.

Finally the coffin arrived, and I followed the queen, trooping drearily to the cold, cheerless graveyard. The mist was still thick on the ground and everything seemed grey and cold.

We stopped at a freshly dug grave, and I watched helplessly as the men lowered the coffin in. There was no lid on the coffin, and everyone could see Ophelia's lifeless body. But she looked peaceful and serene, and so beautiful. I still can't quite believe that I will never see her again. Now all I have are memories.

The Queen and I stepped forward and scattered petals on the grave.

'_Sweets to the sweet! I thought to have decked thy bridebed, sweet maid, not to have strewed thy grave. Thou shouldst have been my Hamlet's wife.' _

Tears sprung into my eyes when Queen Gertrude said those words. I stepped back hastily, rubbing my eyes on the back of my hand.

Suddenly Laertes leapt into the grave. He took Ophelia in his arms and bid the attendants pile the earth over him so he would be buried with her.

There was movement from a way off, and from the shadows came Hamlet and Horatio. Emerging from behind a tomb (their hiding place), Hamlet yelled and charged forward, seizing Laertes by the throat. Both of the young men grappled with each other at the bottom of the pit. Rose screamed, and many of the men in the funeral procession came out of line to pull them apart.

Horatio came to stand by my side, and through my tears, I smiled briefly at him. Though he had only been gone for three hours at the most, I still missed him.

Hamlet, though extremely shocked by the news of Ophelia's death, greeted me warmly. He looked weary from his travels, but was able to talk.

Later, with a cup of warm milk, he told me (and Horatio again) all about his adventures. His time away from Elsinore had taken his mind off issues here – he was almost back to his usual self and was much happier than before.

'But what happened to Rosencrantz and Guid… oh Guilden, something?' I asked.

'Rosencrantz and Guildenstern? Oh, to escape I changed my name with theirs on the death warrant they were meant to hand over to the English officials.'

'So… so they're dead by now?'

Hamlet solemnly nodded his head. 'Aye, they are dead, Julia.'


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10: Rose's Love

'What do you think of Laertes?' asked Rose suddenly, when we were alone in my chamber. I looked up and eyed her suspiciously.

'Why are you asking me that? You're the one with feelings for him,' I retorted, annoyed all at once with my cousin, for blushing and looking away from me. She was reading some small pieces of parchment in her hands, which I could see had scrawling handwriting on them. I arose from my chair, moving swiftly towards her.

'What are those?' I asked, reaching out, but she hid them behind her back.

'Nothing,' she replied hurriedly.

I raised an eyebrow. 'Aye, so why are you being so secretive? Surely if it was nothing there would be nothing there. And if thou speakest true, cousin, you are wrong, for there is plainly something in your clutches.'

Rose sighed. 'Alright, I will tell you, if you promise not to tell anyone else.'

I promised.

'They're love letters,' she smiled at me.

My face lit up in a grin. 'From whom?' I asked eagerly, wondering who on earth it was.

'Laertes, of course.'

I felt my mouth drop open. Rose looked furious. 'I thought you'd be pleased,' she said, looking hurt.

'I-I am… I just didn't notice.'

'Well you've been too busy staring at Horatio to notice anything else that's been going on round here.'

I couldn't think of a retort to that, so I just gawked at her.

'Well, I hope it goes well,' I said at last.

'Yes, it will,' Rose snapped. 'I'm going to see if I can find him.' And with that, she left the room, while I collapsed onto the bed in complete shock. Well, that was a bit of an exaggeration. But I'm still confused …

After I told Horatio about this, he did something I least expected him to do. He started to laugh.

'What?!' I demanded. Horatio took a deep breath, controlling himself.

'Laertes loves Rose. Rose loves Laertes. It's fine.'

'But they're total opposites.'

'Aren't opposites supposed to attract?' he asked slyly.

'Well, if that's the case, we wouldn't be friends.'

He eyed me, looking puzzled. 'Are you and I that similar?'

'Well, we like the same things… don't we?' I said, choosing my words carefully.

'Like what we talk about, we feel the same way about literature, and history…' I trailed off. Hamlet had arrived on the battlements, where we were now, and was taking in the situation.

'Am I interrupting something?' Hamlet asked with a knowing smile.

I blushed and shook my head.

'I'm just going to the latrine,' Horatio informed us, then hurried away. Once he was out of sight, Hamlet chuckled and sat down next to me.

'He's taken a fancy to you, you know.'

I looked at him.

'He has?'

Hamlet shrugged. 'Well any young man of his age and position would find you suitable marriage material. Young, virtuous, thoughtful, obedient… fair – '

I snorted. 'Yea, I am fair. And what about Ophelia? She's more – ' but I stopped, for I realised Ophelia had gone. I saw the sadness in Hamlet's eyes at once.

'I'm sorry. It's hard for me to believe she's gone. It feels like she's gone away for a while on a holiday and will be back soon.' I tried to swallow the growing lump forming in my throat. 'But she won't,' I gulped, feeling the tears flow from my eyes.

'But,' I said, wiping my face, 'I don't want to spend my life living under a man's rule and having to obey him and produce his heirs. I want someone who lets me make my own choices and lets me be myself. He has to know me well and respect what I want.'

'Well, Horatio is definitely your future husband then,' Hamlet concluded. 'So what were you talking about before I came?' he continued.

'About how Rose is enamoured of Laertes, and he seems to reciprocate her feelings,' I replied.

'Laertes has challenged me to a duel, a friendly duel of course, and I am compelled to accept the offer.'

I thought for a moment. 'Isn't it slightly suspicious that Ophelia's brother wants a 'friendly' duel with you? Who told you of it?'

'Osric.'

'Oh, that fop.'

'I agree. But you and Horatio reacted in exactly the same way. Shows how alike you are, doesn't it?' Despite myself, I couldn't hide my smile.

'When will the duel happen?'

'In about an hour.'

'I'll come and watch,' I promised. 'See you then,' I said, heading for the exit.

'Julia!' Hamlet called after me. I turned round to look at him.

'I'll talk to Horatio about what you wanted.'

A grin spread over my face, and I left happier than I had been these past few days.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11: The Duel

An hour later, everyone remaining at Elsinore assembled in the Great Hall. Not many courtiers were left. Laertes and Hamlet were waiting, both dressed in black. Queen Gertrude and King Claudius were seated on their thrones. Osric, Rose, Horatio and I were present too. Aunt Helga had gone to visit a friend of hers in the northern country. There were only a few other courtiers around.

At first, Hamlet and Laertes clasped hands and each drew a sword from a leather bag. Laertes chose one carefully, while Hamlet cheerfully took one, not caring about its weight or size. Wine was brought forward and King Claudius said that if Hamlet defeated Laertes, a beautiful opalescent pearl would be cast into Hamlet's cup.

Then the duel began. The blades weaved in and out, each swordsman deflecting well, and the metal flashed in the candlelight.

At last, Hamlet hit Laertes. Claudius dropped the pearl into the cup and offered it to Hamlet. He refused and carried on with the duel.

Hamlet scored again.

Queen Gertrude gave her napkin to her son, for him to wipe the beads of sweat off his forehead. She drank to his victory, using her son's cup.

The king blanched. 'Don't drink it, Gertrude,' he blurted out.

'I will, my lord,' she said. 'I pray you, pardon me.'

It was plain now it was poisoned, otherwise the king would not have minded.

Laertes suddenly thrust his sword at Hamlet, which made me jump. It caught him on the wrist, and blood now poured from his hand. The fight resumed, but now it was brutal and savage.

At one point, swords were swapped and Rose screamed.

'Be careful, Laertes!'

Hearing her voice, Laertes turned to face Rose, and this was the opportune moment for Hamlet to stab him through the chest. Laertes cried out in pain and Rose ran to him, catching him in her arms and placing his head gently in her lap.

Spluttering from the throne alerted me to the queen, pale and gaunt.

'The drink! The drink! I am poisoned! My son –' And with those last words, she fell back – dead.

I felt tears start in my eyes. Rose was openly sobbing.

'Let the door be locked! Treachery! Seek it out!' Hamlet cried.

'It is here, Hamlet,' Laertes croaked from the floor. 'Hamlet, thou art slain. No medicine in the world can do thee good.'

Now it all made sense to me – King Claudius wanted to poison Hamlet. He had not only laced the wine in that goblet with that poisonous pearl, but had also coated the sword Laertes had carefully picked out with poison.

Hamlet strode across to the king, and in a great fury, stabbed him. But Claudius refused to die immediately, so Hamlet forced his uncle to drink some of the poisoned wine. With a horrible shudder, Claudius lay still.

'I am sorry, Hamlet. Please forgive me,' Laertes rasped, and with those last words, the life within him went out. Rose wailed and snatched up the poisoned goblet which Hamlet had placed on the floor.

'No! Don't, Rose!' I cried, but I was too late. Before I got to her, she had already sipped the remaining poison. She stumbled and fell next to Laertes's corpse. Before her eyes fluttered closed, Rose had reached for Laertes's hand, but did not quite touch it. I crouched next to them, and placed their hands together, so they could be united in death.

Wiping the tears which streamed from my eyes, I searched for Horatio. He was kneeling beside Hamlet, holding his hand and looking so melancholy. I swiftly made my way over to these two friends.

'I am dead, Horatio… Do not weep Julia, but tell others of my story…'

Then we heard gunfire from outside the castle. The doors to the great hall were flung open, and a messenger hurtled towards us.

'My lord, Prince Fortinbras of Norway is here,' wheezed the messenger, panting heavily.

Hamlet tried to sit up, one last time. 'The election lights on Fortinbras. He is my dying voice.'

He fell back into Horatio's arms.

'The rest is silence,' he whispered, and his eyes closed gently. At last, he looked peaceful.

'Good night, sweet prince, and flights of angels sing thee to thy rest,' Horatio wept.

Then there was a fanfare, and several armed men marched in, followed by a rather regal looking man with a big beard and a crown on his head. It was Fortinbras, the Prince of Norway.

At once, Horatio and I got to our feet to bow and curtsey. Osric and the few other courtiers who were still at Elsinore, and had been looking on, dumbstruck at these events, did the same.

'What happened here?' exclaimed Fortinbras.

Horatio told Fortinbras everything that had happened, his words gushing out like water. After Horatio had finished, Fortinbras ordered four captains to bear Hamlet to the stage on the battlements. I followed Horatio up there. As the solemn gunfire boomed from all around, I realised that only an hour ago, Hamlet and I had been conversing here, joking and laughing. I had no idea of what was to happen next – did Hamlet? Perhaps in accepting the challenge, Hamlet had an inkling. But who knows now?

After the last cannon was fired, Fortinbras informed us that we were both free to leave or stay here at Elsinore.

I don't know which to choose – Elsinore or somewhere unknown? Diary, as I write this, I am unsure what will become of me. I have never really had to think about the future before. Aunt Helga has told me before that I have no dowry, and if I were not the queen's lady-in-waiting, I would be free to do what I wish. My parents left me very little, and I am not royalty. But what am I to do? I know no trade, apart from needlework and writing, and reading. Do I stay here? Or do I go and seek my fortune elsewhere? I still cannot process what has just happened, and so I have locked myself in my chamber to cry and sing and remember.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12: At the end of all things

I've now decided what the future holds. Well, at least whether to stay at Elsinore or go elsewhere.

After I retreated to my chamber, I had a good cry and wrote my last entry. Then I realised that I had not checked what had happened to the dead bodies in the great hall. I dashed to Rose's chamber, which was in a bit of a state, and tidied it up – folded the clothes which had been strewn on the floor and placed them back into her dresser and made her bed, as much as I was able. I also gathered all the parchment she had written on, and placed that in an empty drawer in a cupboard next to her bed. Someone would have to go through all this, I thought. But it can't be me. It just can't.

Then I went down to the Great Hall, where I saw Horatio was speaking to Fortinbras. I went up to them, curtsied, and informed Fortinbras that one of the dead bodies was my cousin Rose, and that our aunt Helga would be returning soon, and would want to deal with her estate and possessions.

Fortinbras smiled. 'Horatio here has just informed me of this. Do not worry, my child. We will ensure all these people are buried in the graveyard nearby with all the decency they deserve. Do you know when your aunt will return?'

I shook my head. 'I do not know, your highness. I am sorry to not be of more help.'

'And what will become of you? You were one of Queen Gertrude's ladies, were you not?'

I felt my eyes fill with tears again. 'Yes, I am – I mean, was. I do not know, your highness. May I take some time to think about it?'

'Of course, my child. Take as long as you need. For these are indeed tragic tidings. Hamlet was a great man, who suffered much at such a young age. I understand you and Horatio have been a comfort to him in his times of darkness.'

I laughed nervously, and looked down. 'I have tried to help – I don't know what else I could have done. Thank you for your generosity and kindness.'

I curtsied and then left the Great Hall. I headed for the battlements, so I could escape for a while.

Hamlet's corpse had been left up there. He still looked so peaceful, but I turned away from him and looked out over the hills and mountains of my homeland. I was afraid of venturing forth from here on my own, but I then realised how exciting and freeing it would be. I could escape from this tragedy, and start afresh.

I walked to stand near the tower, the place where Hamlet had spoken to the ghost of his father in private just a couple of months ago. Despite my haunting recollections, I ascended the stairs and kept looking out over the countryside.

'Julia!'

I spun around and saw Horatio standing behind me. He walked over to me, his eyes never leaving my face, and took my hands.

'What are you doing up here?' he asked.

I shrugged and looked down. 'Just trying to decide what to do.'

Horatio said nothing for a while, but kept holding my hands.

'Hamlet told me before he died that I should marry soon,' he then said abruptly. I said nothing, wondering where this conversation was going.

'Julia, I'm leaving. I'm going to Copenhagen, where my family live. Would you do me the honour of – '

'Accompanying you?' I interrupted, smiling. 'Yes, of course!'

'No, not as a friend. As my betrothed.'

I let go of his hands, my mouth fell open, and I could not speak for a good while.

'Horatio… just because Hamlet told you to get married, it doesn't mean you need to propose to me!' I said at last.

'Well, I have been wanting to for a while. I just wasn't sure when would be the right time.'

Horatio had turned red and was shuffling his feet.

'Yes, I know what you mean,' I admitted.

'Julia, you mean the world to me. I have spoken to your aunt to ask her permission. She said yes, and at my request, before she went to visit her friend, she wrote you this note for me to pass onto you.'

He reached inside one of his pockets and pulled out a piece of paper, which was stamped with Aunt Helga's wax seal.

_Dear Julia_

_I give you permission to marry Horatio, if you so wish. Please ensure I am invited to the ceremony. I can organise everything for you._

_With love_

_Aunt Helga_

I looked up at Horatio, who was looking eagerly at me. 'I can give you time to think about it, Julia, as much time as you need. You don't have to say yes but I can provide for us. I know my mother will like you, and you can help her with her business until I can find suitable work and can provide for both of us – '

'Horatio.' He stopped gabbling and looked serious.

I took both his hands and smiled at him.

'Horatio. Yes. A thousand times. Yes!' I grinned.

Horatio laughed, looking relieved, and then grinned back at me, as my acceptance sunk in.

I smiled back.

'When do you want to leave?' I asked.

Horatio breathed deeply. 'Well, Fortinbras told me that the funerals are to happen tomorrow. Then I would like to leave after that.'

'I want to stay for the funerals too,' I said. It was nearly sunset. 'The cook will probably have got food ready for dinner anyway, and Fortinbras will allow us to stay for one night, won't he?'

Horatio nodded. 'Yes, Julia. You must have a lot to pack though, so you should probably start now.'

'Yes, I will. I don't actually have that much to bring with me, but I will start anyway, to make you happy.'

'You already make me so happy, Julia. May I kiss you?' Horatio asked tentatively.

'Of course you can,' I smiled sheepishly.

After we embraced, I ran down the steps of the tower, giddy with happiness. As I entered my chamber, I ran my fingers along the stone wall, taking in everything, so even if I do not see it again, I will remember.

The mahogany panels; the dark floor; the dim candles drowning in their own wax; the creaking floorboards; the ancient tapestries with alcoves large enough for two large men to hide inside unnoticed; my room with its four poster bed, the large window and my writing desk.

I grabbed my largest bag, and into it bundled clothes, everything on my desk and the contents of my drawers.

Then I remembered Aunt Helga. On a spare piece of parchment, I wrote the following:

_Dear Aunt Helga_

_Thank you for allowing me to marry Horatio. I have accepted his proposal and we plan to leave for Copenhagen after the funeral for Rose, Laertes, Prince Hamlet, King Claudius and Queen Gertrude. We plan to live with Horatio's parents until we wed._

_Fortinbras is now King of Denmark, but he is kind and generous, and will allow you to reside here, I am sure of it. I am certain he will be able to tell you all that has happened after you went to visit Agnete._

_Horatio and I have chosen to leave Elsinore behind. It holds too many memories for me and I felt like an imprisoned bird – never able to spread my wings and fly. But now I feel free, and I'll fly away from here. Thank you for caring for me as my guardian, and do not worry, I will ensure you are invited to our wedding. I will write to you when we have safely arrived. _

_From your loving ward,_

_Julia_

After writing those words and leaving them on my dresser, I then went down to the Great Hall, where Horatio was waiting for me. We then dined with Fortinbras, Osric and the other remaining courtiers. It was a sober occasion, with little jollity (unsurprisingly) and everyone spoke in hushed voices, as if this was the funeral itself. Horatio and I then found seats near the fire, and he read to me from a book – it was a book of fictional adventures. I found myself drifting off, so I excused myself and departed for my chamber.

I cannot remember any of my dreams that night.

The next day, I dressed myself in black and went downstairs for breakfast. Horatio was there, and we ate together, before he went to assist the priest with the funeral preparations. I went back up to my chamber and ensured that I had everything ready to take with me. Although I didn't have a horse, Horatio told me that Fortinbras had allowed me to borrow one for the journey to Copenhagen.

The funeral for Hamlet, Rose, Laertes, Claudius and Gertrude was beautiful. Horatio gave a eulogy for all the dead, and I was so proud of him.

After their bodies were lowered into the ground and soil piled on top of them, we all headed back into the castle. I collected my belongings from my chamber, and Horatio and I left Elsinore.

As we rode away, I looked back at that grey castle, rising above the grassy mounds beneath it. How glad I was to be leaving it.

I write this in Horatio's sister's room, which I will share with her until Horatio and I are married. I hope that this diary will stand as a record of these tragic events, but that Horatio and I will be able to move on and live in bliss for the rest of our lives.

Last night, as I lay in my new bed, their faces loomed in on me as I drifted off to sleep: Polonius, Gertrude, Claudius, Laertes, Ophelia, Hamlet, Rosencrantz and Guildenstern, and finally Rose. Their eyes were wide with fear, their mouths open in horror. I can still hear their voices inside my head. I can still hear Ophelia and Rose scream. And I will never be able to forget them. Memories of Elsinore will never fade within me.

The End


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